


one kiss (my bonny sweetheart)

by lordfarquaad



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Established Relationship, Highwayman!Billy, Inspired by The Highwayman - Alfred Noyes, M/M, Yes I called his horse Camaro, fight me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-15
Updated: 2020-02-15
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:14:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22512307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lordfarquaad/pseuds/lordfarquaad
Summary: “One kiss, my bonny sweetheart, I’m after a prize to-night,But I shall be back with the yellow gold before the morning light;Yet, if they press me sharply, and harry me through the day,Then look for me by moonlight,Watch for me by moonlight,I’ll come to thee by moonlight, though hell should bar the way.”A Harringrove Highwayman AU
Relationships: Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington
Kudos: 5





	one kiss (my bonny sweetheart)

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so I was reading The Highwayman whilst having Harringrove in the back of my mind, ya know as you do, and I just had this idea of a highwayman Billy in love with Steve, the landlord’s son. And then this happened ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

> _He’d a French cocked-hat on his forehead, a bunch of lace at his chin,  
>  A coat of the claret velvet, and breeches of brown doe-skin.  
> They fitted with never a wrinkle. His boots were up to the thigh.  
> And he rode with a jewelled twinkle,  
> His pistol butts a-twinkle,  
> His rapier hilt a-twinkle, under the jewelled sky._

“Come on, girl,” Billy murmured, as he led his horse over the crooked cobbles of the Harrington’s inn-yard. It was quiet and dark, with just hints of candlelight flickering through the cracks in the windows shutters.

Billy glanced around to check that the coast was clear before he tested the inn-door. And just like he thought; it had been locked for the night. And so he headed for the window where the shutters weren’t closed as tightly as the rest and whistled a short, sharp tune.

Within seconds the shutters were pushed open and Steve appeared at the window, and _God!_ He took Billy’s breath away; wearing just a loose billowy shirt and breeches. And Billy had to make sure his own shirt was unlaced so he could get his breath back.

“You waiting to see me, pretty boy?”

“No, I don’t care about seeing you Billy, I only want to see Camaro.”

“Well here she is,” Billy said, patting his horse’s neck, “I’m sure you don’t mean that, but I can always leave you and her alone for a little while?” he joked.

“You’re right. As beautiful as she is, it is you I’d rather be alone with,” Steve shrugged, leaning on his windowsill.

“Thought so,” Billy smirked. His already tight breeches became even tighter for a moment, as he thought about exactly what he’d like to do with Steve. “Want to tell me more about how you’d like to be alone with me?”

***

 _Hidden in the shadows of the dark stables, amongst the hay and saddles, Tommy the stable boy watched and listened intently. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing, the boy he’s loved all his life. Steve the inn-keeper’s doe-eyed son; Steve and a_ highwayman _?_

_He needed to think. He needed a way to keep that criminal away. He wanted Steve for himself and an idea slowly started to grow in his mind._

***

“I’d rather talk about the _when_ not the how.”

“After this last job,” Billy said, “this one last job, alone, and then I’ll be back for you and we’ll never have to be apart again.”

“You promise?” Steve asked.

“You have my word,” Billy replied, emphatically.

“Okay but hurry back to me, thief.”

“I might be a thief, but _you_ stole my heart.”

“And you stole mine right back.”

“One kiss, my pretty boy,” Billy winked, and stood up in his stirrups, reached up and pressed a kiss onto the back of Steve’s hand, “then look for me by moonlight tomorrow and then we can run away and be together.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow then, my thief,” Steve said, as he let Billy pull his hand away and right himself on his saddle; smooth down his velvet coat, and straighten his hat.

Billy blew a final kiss to Steve before he tugged at his reins and galloped away to the west.

* * *

Steve spent the night tossing and turning before rising with the sun. He couldn’t wait for Billy to come back and to finally be able to spend more time with the man he loves, besides the stolen moments in the dead of night.

***

_Tommy, in a fit of jealousy, reported Billy to the Justice of the Peace. Told them about how a highwayman will be coming to the Harrington Inn tonight, after a robbery. Told them about how he’s going there to see Steve, the Harrington boy. Told them about how Steve’s father wouldn’t stand in their way. And so, with a dismissive wave, a troop of red-coats is deployed._

***

Steve spent the day torn between helping his father in the inn, and running up to his room to watch the road, just in case Billy is early. And when he checked around noon, he could see someone on a horse on the road his love will take, and his heart skipped a beat. But sank moments later when more people appeared behind him and Steve could now see that it’s a troop of the King’s men.

He was anxious but tried to hide it as he returned downstairs. It’s not long before the red-coats are entering the inn and demanding ale, and asking about the Harrington boy?

“That’s um- that’s me?” Steve squeaked. He regretted it instantly as he ended up with a red-coat grabbing an arm each and hauling him up the stairs. He strained to get away but received a blow to the head as penance and after a few dizzying seconds, he passed out.

***

Steve came to with something cold digging into his chest, a dull throb in the back of his head and a mouth full of cloth. He was sat in a chair at his window and as he tried to stand, discovered he was tied up in rope. He tugged and squirmed as much as he could but his binds wouldn’t budge. And _oh great_ he thought _only a musket up against my chest, okay, fuck._

Steve had heard stories about the red-coats before. And although he didn’t know how they’d found out, he knew it was all a trap for them to capture Billy. And if they knew that Steve was the way to get to Billy, then the outlook didn’t look good for either of them.

So, resigned to his fate, Steve sat as a lookout; watching the road once more that day. The hours were starting to trickle by and the daylight was slowly fading when Steve had the sudden realisation that he would not be getting out of this alive. A tear slipped down his cheek as a second thought occurred to him. A way for at least one of them to live through this.

And so with all of his strength and with the dying of the light, he kept twisting his hands until he could feel the knots start to loosen; until he could feel blood dripping down his hands.

As the moon rose high in the sky, he finally triumphed. He finally had could reach the trigger.

***

With his heart pounding directly beneath the muzzle and his finger trembling on the trigger he sat and watched for his love, his thief, his _Billy._ Then, by the light of the moon, he finally saw him. Majestic on Camaro’s back, and where Steve would have once felt anticipation, he instead felt nothing but fear.

Steve squeezed his eyes shut tight, then squeezed his finger even tighter and warned Billy – with his death.

* * *

With satisfaction tingling in his spine, from a successful job and from the thought of being with Steve, Billy set Camaro on a gentle trot down the highway towards the Harrington Inn.

The sound of a musket firing shattered the still night air, and Billy immediately turned heel and fled back to the west. He’d no idea what had happened but couldn’t risk going to Steve then. He knew that his love would understand and so Billy headed for a nearby town where he could stay for the night, and wait for the danger to pass.

***

Come dawn he heard the news.

***

“Did you hear about the Harrington boy? Such terrible news. Shot himself in the chest”

“The red-coats had him, I heard. Had him all tied up.”

“Poor lad. Must have been caught up in something bad.”

***

With hatred and despair prickling in his spine, Billy jumped on Camaro’s back and rode hard down the highway, ready to seek vengeance for his pretty boy.

As he came over the brow of the hill, he saw them. The red-coats. Saw them waiting for him near the inn-yard. Exactly as he’d been expecting them.

“ _BASTARDS!_ ” Billy roared, as he got within hearing-distance, brandishing his rapier high; ready to kill them all for what they did. But he was fuelled by grief and not thinking about protecting himself; not thinking about their muskets; not thinking about how they might have steady hands and a lucky shot.

With only the thought of _Steve_ running through his mind, Billy took a direct hit to his heart; in the exact same spot Steve had shot himself mere hours earlier.

And there he dies, on the highway, ready to meet his pretty boy – and be together in death.

> _Back, he spurred like a madman, shrieking a curse to the sky,  
>  With the white road smoking behind him and his rapier brandished high.  
> Blood-red were his spurs in the golden noon; wine-red was his velvet coat;  
> When they shot him down on the highway,  
> Down like a dog on the highway,  
> And he lay in his blood on the highway, with a bunch of lace at his throat._


End file.
